


The Disappearance of Peter Parker

by SpectacularNostalgia



Category: The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Investigations, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Games, Missing Persons, Murder, Mystery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Procedural, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectacularNostalgia/pseuds/SpectacularNostalgia
Summary: HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT MISSING!There had been a string of disappearances for the past few weeks, and the latest victim is the Daily Bugle's own part-time photographer and Midtown Manhattan Magnet High student - Peter Parker(16, pictured on left side). Peter Parker had been reported missing yesterday, and had been missing for over 48 hours. According to the police, his room was ransacked and found blood splatters. Police are currently focused on his investigation and are imploring everyone to come forward if they have any information.Additional details: Peter Parker, approx.16, brown hair, brown eyes, mole under left eye, white, 5'6", approx. 118lbs; last seen wearing: black shirt, khakis, and navy running shoes.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've wanted to write for some time now.

Day 1:

“Thank you so much.” May Parker wiped her tears with a handkerchief.

Terri gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders, mentally filed away the details and started detailing a plan for her investigation. They already went through a preliminary sweep in the Parker residence, forensics crawling over every nook and cranny in search for leads.

The most obvious ones would be: the pool of blood in Peter’s room that then trailed to outside before it disappeared completely, the broken windows, and obvious signs of struggle (displaced furniture and damaged personal effects, but nothing was stolen, if anything, everything that could be of value were still there). The current theory was someone broke through the window, hit Peter over the head with something hard, carried him, and got him into a getaway vehicle. Terri’s timeframe, based on the blood crusting on the victim’s floor, was about a day old, so Parker probably disappeared a few hours after visiting May Parker before she was discharged. Problem was, there weren’t any witnesses present at the time. Motive’s unclear, and Terri had a hunch wasn’t a human trafficking kind of case - if the lack of stolen goods were any indication.

So far, Terri guessed the reason was something personal - but if it were, why not kill Peter then and there?

Terri didn’t stick to anything solid and had to consciously remind herself to remain as open as possible to any and all possibilities. As much as she wanted to spare May Parker’s feelings, Peter Parker’s safety came first.

“Mrs. Parker, do you know anyone that could have had a grudge on him? Anyone that wants to hurt him?” Peter didn’t seem like the kind of person who would have that sort of enemy. He was just a kid, but there were a lot of sickos out there in the streets.

“Well… Petey’s been dealing with bullies, but I don’t think they’d want to hurt him _like_ that.” May gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “I heard from the news that a lot of people had been going missing and -”

“Mrs. Parker, I understand you’re worried - but let me worry about the worst-case scenario, okay?” May Parker already had a lot on her plate, and Terri didn’t want her to worry too much - she was just discharged, for Christ’s sake. “We’ll make sure he’s safe and sound, okay?”

May Parker sobbed wretchedly, grateful and terrified at once. “Oh, please help me.”

Terri promised.

* * *

 

“What the fuck, Vargas?” Terri took a deep breath and tried to keep her tone even. “What do you mean the sample’s contaminated?”

Vargas was a blond in his mid-20’s, he was rather thin and had dark circles under his eyes. He was hunched over his desk and jumped when Terri raised her voice. He winced and gestured to the display. “It’s not all human blood - there’s some animal mixed in there, but I think? It’s really hard to tell.”

Terri suppressed a groan. “But can we at least assume that it’s the vic’s blood?”

“It’ll take some time to isolate a few things here–but we _could_ go with that assumption for now.”

That was _something_ at least. “Just let me know if you find something. I’m headed out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 

The Thompson residence was in a middle-class neighborhood in Queens – perfect cookie-cutter houses next to old inherited homes in desperate need of renovations. It looked peaceful on this Saturday morning, and Terri almost felt bad for disturbing them right before Thanksgiving began.

A missing person was more important than an awkward family dinner, Terri reminded herself as she steeled her nerves and got out of the car.

Terri could hear activity as she neared, pots and pans clanging as whom she guessed as Flash Thompson argued with his mother about the preparation. Terri took a deep breath and clenched her fists. She could do this, this wasn’t the first time she talked to someone on her own—wasn’t the first time she talked to a teenager either. She raised her knuckle and rapped on the door; and schooled her expression to something resolute.

The activity screeched to a halt, but sounds resumed, and loud stomping approached.

The front door swung open and Terri _had_ to look up just to meet Flash Thompson’s confused green eyes. His eyes quickly flicked to her badge, and Thompson looked rather confused.

“Uh, what can I do for you, ma’am?” Thompson sounded… wary, then—not that Terri could blame him. After all, Terri was still in uniform when Harrison Thompson got a restraining order. “Is there something wrong with… Harrison?”

Terri shook her head and pushed the cold spike of anticipation down her chest. She cleared her throat and took out her pen and notepad.

“I just wanted to ask a few things about Peter Parker.” Terri noted the alarm that sparked in Flash’s eyes. His expression closed off, brows furrowed, and mouth set in a scowl. “It won’t take long.”

“Alright.” Flash crossed his arms. “What did Parker do this time?”

“Did you notice anything weird or unusual?” Terri asked and gave Flash a reassuring glance. That made him more guarded. “Mentioned if he was going somewhere—something like that.”

Flash stared at her, befuddled. He inhaled deeply, not quite meeting Terri’s eyes, and it took a minute before he replied. Terri already noted down his reactions—he seemed wary, but Terri’s instincts told her he was innocent. Flash didn’t seem like the kind of person who would attack someone in their home.

“He’s been weird—started acting like a dick outta nowhere, didn’t even know Mrs. Parker had a heart attack, went the whole emo nine yards.” Flash snorted in derision, anger coloring his voice. “He looks like shit—more than the usual, anyway. Like, no sleep and all.”

That was a start, at least. Peter Parker was acting strangely prior to his disappearance, and his behavior sounded extremely alarming. There were a lot of things that could be attributed to sudden changes in personality, but… Terri needed to focus. The scenario was still incomplete, and jumping to conclusions this early in the investigation wouldn’t do her good.

“I see,” Terri said as she finished up writing down Flash’s statement. “Anything else?”

Flash tapped his chin in thought. “Not really. Why, is he in trouble?”

Here came the hard part.

“Peter Parker was assaulted in his home and has been missing for the past twenty-four hours.” Flash stumbled back, eyes widening, and mouth hung open in shock. “Usually, we don’t advise people to file a missing person’s report until seventy-two hours already passed, but due to the nature of the disappearance…”

Flash worked his jaw and Terri noted the sweat that broke out of his forehead. She took a step back, let Flash work through his stress. She felt sorry for him, even if Terri knew he was usually Parker’s bully. From what May Parker said, Peter may have tried to downplay much of it, but it wasn’t as bad as getting broken bones or having his possessions vandalized. Usually, Terri would be sterner, but Flash was just a kid—and even if he was a bully, Terri could see that Flash cared to _some_ degree.

“Is he dead?” Was the first thing out of Flash’s mouth after he composed himself. He realized what he said and winced. “Missing—yeah, no body. I—god, what the fuck?”

Terri gave him a sympathetic look, and she really hated being the bearer of bad news. “You were the last person to see him.”

“I need a moment.” Flash dropped to the porch and buried his face in his hands. “I think he’s been stressed out with money or something—fuck—what if he killed himself?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Terri cleared her throat and pushed the uneasiness down and _out_. Even if suicide was a possibility ( _and how could it not? The struggle could easily be misconstrued as a tantrum, sudden changes in behavior and appearance, and withdrawing from friends and family…)_ that didn’t mean anything. “He could still be alive, and I would like to think it that way. I just need your help.”

Flash didn’t reply, hunched in himself and on the verge of hyperventilating. Terri knelt down, alarmed, and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t respond right away, she squeezed it.

“Hey, everything’s going to be alright. Breath with me—one, two, three, four—there you go.” Terri shuffled back to give Flash some space. “You with me?”

“I—yeah, I’m with ya.” Flash held a hand up and took a deep breath. “What do you need?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at my tumblr:
> 
> http://spectacular-nostalgia.tumblr.com


	2. Day2/Day3

Day 2:

Terri steeled herself, felt like entering a den of snakes instead of an office building.

There were times the police butted heads with the media and there were times they got along swimmingly—depending on the situation. The past few weeks had been a… mid-ground, of sorts. With most news outlets anyway.

The Daily Bugle was more or less a model newspaper—its articles often praised the police, very patriotic as well. It didn’t release news articles that critiqued the police, and it often cooperated with them—not unless Jameson decided that the police were obstructing “news to sell”, then everything was free game.

“Detective Lee?” Terri blinked and turned on her heel. Betty Brant was one of the few people that seemed too good to be in the Bugle. “Is this about the Janet Reyes case?”

Terri winced and shook her head. “We have another one, one of yours.”

Betty’s eyes widened in alarm. Before Betty could panic, Terri placed a hand over her shoulder and continued calmly.

“He’s a photographer here, Peter Parker. He had been missing since yesterday, there were signs of struggle and blood found in his room.” Terri paused and let the information sink in. Betty stared through Terri, but she managed to regain her bearings and that was when Terri went on. “It’s a little different from the usual—and the sooner we have information put out there, it will help finding Peter Parker.”

Alive, hopefully, went the unspoken thought.

“Let me get you to Jameson.”

Jameson was screaming at a poor intern when Terri found him, minutes later as Betty escorted her. Betty quickly headed off to one of her co-workers—Robertson, Terri guessed—and began to speak to him in a low voice. Jameson was rude and obnoxious, and he was one of Terri’s least favorite news-related people. However, he got news out _fast_ and that’s what Terri needed—fast.

“And don’t come back until you get me something more than ‘no comment!’, I need something to work with!” Jameson sent the intern off, the poor thing just on the verge of tears. With the intern gone, Jameson set his sights on a new target—and there was no target better than detective. He grinned up at Terri, suddenly very accommodating and interested. “Detective Lee! More stuff from the Reyes thing?”

Terri cleared her throat. She knew Jameson was a horrible boss, but he did have _some_ concern for his fellow human beings. “No, this is about one of the photographers working under you, Peter Parker.”

“Oh? What about him? Kid’s in more trouble? Need something for the hospital?” Terri caught a flash of worry in his eyes, and she felt a little terrible to be the one to tell him what exactly happened to Peter.

“He’s missing.” Like with Betty, Terri waited for the shock to wear off from Jameson’s face before explaining. “His room’s a mess—he was assaulted there, and we found blood on the floor. It trailed all the way outside before it disappeared completely. Forensics been trying to confirm if it’s his or someone else’s. It’s been estimated that he had been gone for at least two days now.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jameson jumped off his seat and went straight for a filing cabinet. He bought out a decanter and took a gulp straight from it. “That’s our center-front, for the whole month. Hey Brant! Get everything we got on Parker, I want his face plastered on every corner—no Spider-man until someone gives us a call!”

Terri felt a pang of pity for Jameson. He may be the perfect example of a media hound, but he still had some decency in him.

There should be people sending in information, enough to pique people to keep on a look out for a sixteen-year old boy. The Bugle was already invested—this was very personal to them, and Terri knew that they would be spending a lot of time and effort focused on Peter Parker. If say they didn’t find Peter Parker right away, Terri guessed that the Bugle would keep the article about him on front, but it wouldn’t be the focus. It was better than the blurb getting pushed to back.

“Another thing, Mr. Jameson,” Terri interjected as Jameson proceeded to wail on a different intern about why they didn’t have a good picture of Peter Parker. “I have a few documents here that could help.”

Terri bought out the report, it had everything Terri gathered from Flash Thompson and May Parker—it was mostly what they say him wearing before going missing. Dark shirt, khakis, and blue shoes. There was a copy of Peter’s school ID, too, along with a couple of photographs of Peter for the past six months. It wasn’t much.

“That’s all I could give right now—hopefully, someone comes up with information.” Terri cleared her throat before Jameson could reply. “We will be keeping in touch, and if you get any information—please, please, let us know first before releasing it.”

Jameson snorted. “Look, I may like to keep people informed all the time, but I’m not _stupid._ ”

Terri grinned, rather ruefully. “Thank you, Mr. Jameson.”

* * *

 

**HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT MISSING!**

_There had been a string of disappearances for the past few weeks, and the latest victim is the Daily Bugle's own part-time photographer and Midtown Manhattan Magnet High student - Peter Parker (16, pictured on left side). Peter Parker had been reported missing yesterday and had been missing for over 48 hours. According to the police, his room was ransacked and found blood splatters. Police are currently focused on his investigation and are imploring everyone to come forward if they have any information._  
  
  _Additional details: Peter Parker, approx.16, brown hair, brown eyes, mole under left eye, white, 5'6", approx. 118lbs; last seen wearing: black shirt, khakis, and navy running shoes._

__

* * *

 

Day 3:

Releasing information to the public was a double-edged sword.

The whole station had been fielding calls all day about missing persons—not just about Peter—but with Janet Reyes, Henry Travis, Tara Pezzani, and many more. Not all of them were even reliable and more than half were people that called wanted their two minutes of fame for having ‘vital’ information. Worse, there was absolutely nothing about Peter Parker’s disappearance.

Down at the captain’s office was George Stacy consoling an upset Gwen Stacy. Terri felt sorry for her—her classmate went missing right at what was probably the most stressful time of his life: in need of money to pay very expensive hospital and utility bills, nearly losing another guardian, had a recent falling out with his childhood friend. It all seemed like a recipe for disaster and—

 _“_ — _what if he killed himself?”_

 Terri shook her head. Peter Parker was still alive unless they found a body that said otherwise. Even if he would be missing for a good ten years, Terri wouldn’t consider him dead.

After he fifteenth call that was basically a teenager from the _Bronx_ of all places, Terri decided that enough was enough and stood from her seat.

“Where are you going?” Her usual partner, Detective Raymond asked, covering his phone’s mouthpiece.

“Gonna check again with Vargas, maybe he found something useful.” Raymond gave her a sympathetic look before returning to the call. Terri took that as her cue to leave and then went straight for forensic.

Vargas had nothing useful to share.

“Well, other than signs of a struggle—nothing’s out of place. Blood sample’s too contaminated to get anything useful. But! IT’s almost done with reviewing traffic footage in the area and found a few interesting stuff.” Vargas handed a manila folder over to Terri, and she began flipping through it. “Night vision couldn’t identify colors, but we managed to tag about three possible get-away vehicles. A van, that beat-up Chevy, and a pick-up truck. No plates, and around the same time the vic disappeared.”

“Right in the middle of the night—less likely to hear him getting hit over the head.” Terri mulled the new information over. None of the three jumped at Terri, they all seemed like typical vehicles used for kidnappings. Was it just one person that took Parker away or was it by a group? Was it random like the other disappearances or was it planned? Or…

Terri sighed and gave Vargas a grateful glance. “We’ll be on the lookout for these. Thanks.”

When Terri bumped into Norman Osborn, her first thought was to be as obnoxious as possible. Instead, she kept her expression and tone neutral when she saw his limousine match her pace on her way to a nearby deli to grab lunch. She stopped and turned to the car when she recognized the plates before it reached her, looking down at the tinted windows. One of it slid down, and Norman Osborn stared back at her.

“Would you like to enter the station, Mr. Osborn?” Terri asked, made sure to keep her hands behind her back. “Something you’d like to report?”

“Nothing of the sort, detective. Although, it’s been a while since our last conversation.” He smiled—but it looked more like a sneer to Terri. “I was just concerned—Peter Parker is missing?”

Terri’s brows shot up. She didn’t expect that. She knew that Parker attended the same school as Osborn’s son, but it didn’t seem like something to warrant his attention—not unless he’ll make it something about the safety of Harry Osborn then something to promote himself. Or something.

Very carefully, Terri searched Osborn’s face. His concern seemed genuine enough, but Terri always had a bad hunch when it came to Osborn. Her instincts had yet to let her down. “Currently.”

“How tragic, he’s just sixteen—so young, yet—”

“We’re not sure about his current status, Mr. Osborn.” Terri narrowed her eyes. “Unless we see it for ourselves, let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Ah, of course.” Osborn smiled ruefully, but that just made Terri’s skin crawl. “I will be doing what I can to help, of course. If it’s no trouble, I would like to be informed once you do find him. Please, Detective Lee?”

“We’ll see if we can,” Terri answered and turned quickly. Norman Osborn was the last person she would want to inform once Parker was found. He didn’t look like he was up to something good, and if it’s some sort of power thing then Terri would keep her mouth shut until Peter Parker was safe and sound with his aunt.

Osborn shouted from his car, and Terri pretended not to hear him. Her destination, thankfully, was a hole in a wall that looked no different from the rest of the houses surrounding it. So by the time the car caught up when Terri turned down the corner at the end of the street, it would seem like she disappeared.

She was very content to watch the limousine speed by while she enjoyed her lunch.

* * *

 

Day 4:

Terri ducked down the yellow tape and entered the scene, made sure to avoid the markers the forensics left on the patio up to Peter’s room. There were gawkers trying to get a closer look, concerned neighbors asking a few officers guarding the place about what happened, and maybe a person or three from the media trying to get a statement from Terri. Terri remained silent and continued on her way.

There were still forensics giving the whole place another sweep in case they missed something. Turned out, they have.

“Found some hair here, short, bleached then dyed, dead, and no roots.”

But most were useless.

“I’ll be up on the vic’s room,” Terri told a passing officer, who nodded at her.

Most of the house was pristine, if not for a day’s worth of dust settling on every available surface. It was just Peter’s room that was ransacked—his dresser drawers strewn open, smashed windows, schoolbooks on the floor, and some broken equipment on the floor. Most of them were already sent back to the labs in bags. There were spots on Peter’s desk that used to have something, judging by the discoloration on the wood, and then taken. It was disproportionate to the number of broken objects, so Terri guessed it was stolen alongside Peter.

Terri then went on snooping—crawled across the floor, checking to see if there were any more of those hairs. Which was none. Nothing under the desk either—and the only interesting thing was the tape under Peter’s dresser. Other than that, Peter’s room was as good as clean.

Sighing, Terri checked again, looking for something—anything—that was out of place. Nothing.

So much for another sweep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at my tumblr:
> 
> http://spectacular-nostalgia.tumblr.com


	3. Interlude

_Interlude_

It’s been three days since Puny Parker disappeared, and Flash hoped to anyone listening up there that life will go on—that school would just be the usual. He’s wrong.

Suddenly, there were all these anti-bullying, mental health, and suicide prevention things posted up _everywhere_. Then there were these barely hidden suspicious looks teachers had been giving Flash all the time, which a lot of his classmates easily picked up and imitated. Worse, even his friends looked at him like he was personally responsible if Parker actually went off the deep end.

Flash could hardly blame them.

If anything, it _did_ feel like he pushed Parker into it.

_“Let’s not jump to conclusions. He could still be alive.”_

As if Detective Lee’s words were any kind of comfort. The longer a person went missing, the likelier they were _dead_. And Flash was the person responsible.

Maybe if he hadn’t opened his big fat mouth—

“Are you listening, Mr. Thompson?” Flash jumped on his seat, the class unusually quiet and heavy. He could feel eyes on him, and Flash laughed. Except, he could feel his classmate’s stares intensifying into something hard and hostile, and all he wanted to do was sink on his chair and disappear.

“Uh yes, Professor Warren. Was just thinking about something.” There was hostility there, barely hidden under impassivity, and Flash couldn’t take it any longer. “I just need to go to the nurse’s office. Don’t feel so good.”

He stumbled out of his seat, knees shaking, and Flash ignored the whispers that followed him as he headed for the door. Everything felt blurry and unreal, and Flash overbalanced when he felt something trip him. Derisive laughter followed when he almost face-planted to the floor, and Flash didn’t dare look behind him to see if his friends were laughing—didn’t matter if it was at him or with them. What mattered was getting out.

Getting out to the hallway wasn’t any better. Flash still felt trapped as heat closed in on him from all sides, and he wondered if this was what Harrison felt all the time. Except, without the heavy weight of cold pushing down inside his gut despite feeling like his skin was on fire.

Sad teenagers in glossy posters stared back at Flash as he nearly crawled his way to the nurse’s office, and he knew it was all fake but they all seemed to warp into accusing stares with every step. The floor seemed to stretch on forever, and Flash’s legs barely supported him as he walked. He could already hear whispers following him as he passed by classrooms, students curiously peeking out to see where he was headed.

By the time Flash reached his destination, he could barely breath, light-headed yet somehow distant. The voices were louder, crowding around him, hands everywhere—

_hands are dangerous, they hold and punch and push and—_

“—snap… of it!”

_Harrison likes doing this thing, pretending to punch Flash, just to see him flinch. Harrison likes punching Flash, and Flash never knew why—_

“He’s… not responding… come on… you shouldn’t…”

_It’s hard to look at his mom nowadays. She looks like a motley of purples and blues and reds and green. Just like Flash._

“… a panic attack… give him some… back off!”

_He remembers telling Harrison to back off once. Harrison didn’t._

_He remembers Peter telling him to back off once. He didn’t._

“You’re here, in Midtown. You’re safe, in the nurse’s office. Breath me with me, one-two—”

_He remembers Officer Lee. Remembers holding back tears when she touched his arm where the patch of skin was black, that the slightest sensation made pain shoot up all the way to his chest, throbbing and burning._

_He remembers her telling him to—_

Breathe _._

* * *

 

Gwen found out from Captain Stacy on a Saturday morning, right before lunch began.

There was no earth-shattering realization or an explosion of fear and awareness. Gwen was just numb. She sat down, uncomprehending, didn’t realize there were tears until she felt her dad taking her into his arms as he whispered assurances before asking her to calm down so that he could get a statement. None of it made sense.

Why Peter?

He was smart, even if he hadn’t been the best of people for the past few days—Peter didn’t deserve whatever it was that happened to him. If anything _did_ happen.

The talk with the Connors was something she never wanted to happen ever again. Gwen didn’t know if having it over the phone was any better than having it in person. They were in shock and terrified, Gwen knew enough. The Connors would probably keep a closer eye on their son, make sure he’s never out of sight.

All these disappearances used to feel distant and Gwen didn’t really pay mind to it. Sure, she did keep an eye to help, but Gwen didn’t really go out of her way to do anything, not really. Then, Peter’s gone.

Peter was already acting weird, and she shouldn’t have left him alone. None of them should have. Even if Peter pushed them all away, Gwen could have done _something_. Gwen knew it wasn’t rational to blame herself over something beyond her control, but it does feel like some part of it had been her fault.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it, impossible not to. That’s why she’s just a few feet away from yellow tape outside Peter’s house. The setting sun bathed it in orange and gold, steeped like a faded memory, almost peaceful and as if there was nothing wrong. Gwen tried to look for anything unusual from the outside, wishing she could do more than tell her father how weird Peter was for the past few days, ever since that alien slime disappeared from ESU. Wished that she recognized his hostility as some messed up call for help. Hoped the worst did not come to pass.

“Gwen?” MJ’s voice broke through Gwen’s thoughts, and Gwen felt horrible for not telling the rest of their friends. Hell, she hadn’t told Harry yet either, and she didn’t want to. Harry was supposed to be taking a break, but he deserved to know his best friend was missing. “I just heard about it earlier and…”

Gwen let MJ hug her, her heart burning a path down her throat then to chest. She could hear sobbing, and Gwen had no idea if it was her or MJ. Or both.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” MJ said as she pulled away, wiping the tears that trailed down her cheeks. “I’ve checked with Midtown high and if there’s anyone else—it’s just Peter. Just him. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Nothing did. Not for the last five hours.

The only consolation Gwen had was May Parker was fine and would be staying with the Watsons until Peter’s found. Or until the police finished scouring every inch of their home and extracted every bit of dust.

At the corner of her eyes was a flash of blond hair and sharp blue eyes, before Gwen could take a good look, it’s gone.

“Do you think the teachers already know?” Gwen nodded at MJ’s question.

“Dad already called—I told the Connors though, the station has their hands full. They’re dealing with a lot of stuff already,  and I think the detective handling the case is working on a lead.” By the time her dad finished interviewing Gwen, he went straight back to work with an apologetic glance. Everyone at the station were frantic and Gwen bumped into at least three frantic officers before leaving. “I haven’t told Eddie yet, but I think I saw him here.”

MJ frowned when Gwen mentioned Eddie. Did something happen?

“It’s nothing... just boys being stupid,” MJ grumbled. “He’s been pretty bitter about Peter about the whole photographer thing. He does have _some_ point, but he’s just too much.”

“Oh.” Still, Gwen guessed Eddie would be worried about Peter, and she imagined that he probably felt guilty. It was hard not to.

“Come on, let’s try and get missing posters up. Could help Mrs. P feel better.”

Without much to do, Gwen nodded and let Mary Jane lead the way.

* * *

 

Spider-man did not fulfill his end of the deal. Not that Not that Lincoln expected him to. Just proved that the vigilante could not be trusted.

“What now?” Hammerhead kept his gaze on the footage of Spider-man, almost blending in with the darkness as he held one of Lincoln’s men up. Too bad there weren’t any audio, Lincoln was rather interested what sort of conversation took place between Spider-man and a common thief. Not a minute later, Spider-man threw the thug carelessly, and then the footage cut off.

This had been going on for quite a while, and Lincoln would have interrogated Spider-man’s latest victims if most of them weren’t beaten half to death or comatose. If Lincoln wasn’t mistaken, two already died and five were in critical condition.

The vigilante wasn’t... quite himself. Lincoln concluded with just a hint of unease. As if he transformed to a whole different person overnight. Figuratively and literally. Instead of the lithe frame, current sightings of the vigilante were of a hulking mass of muscle and speed.

Lincoln would love to have the police involved, but the recent disappearance of a teenager had their attention. That was fine by Lincoln. He’d give it a few weeks, and the police would start losing interest the longer the teen remained missing.

Or once they find the boy’s cooling corpse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for the continued supportn co.ments, and kudos!
> 
> You guys rock! :)

_ Day 14: _

Chaos greeted Terri the moment she arrived at the station. Not that Terri was any better. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun—fly away stands framed her face and dark circles dragged her bloodshot eyes into an exhausted grimace. 

Everyone was somewhere between falling asleep on their feet or a minute away from a heart attack.  Captain Stacey shot her an apologetic look as he headed to his office, phone in hand and his daughter's voice filtering loudly through the speakers. In less than a week, another student from Midtown High disappeared. It wasn't just anyone either.

Flash Thompson was gone.

The last time anyone saw him was right after football practice. Flash's mother would have been asked to wait three more days. Flash could have just gone to a party or some other after-school activity. He could have gone home during that time.

Had May Parker and Anna Watson not found his bloody jacket and school bag at their front door, no one would have known he was gone at all.

There was nothing to find at the first  sweep besides the obvious. Terri just wished the blood sample wasn't contaminated. The worst part wasn’t over when Terri arrived. Both elderly women were inconsolable as they were escorted out.

That wasn't the worst part either.

It was Rosie Thompson. Trying to punch and claw her way through the line of officers that blocked the way, screaming and begging until her voice died out into a rasp.

Captain Stacey drove her to the station.

The perimeter now included both the Parker and Watson residences. Forensics worked as quickly as they could—an enormous tent covered the front, sandbags and other equipment surrounded the area to protect the scene from the elements. Hopefully, these were enough to keep the snow and wind from contaminating the area. Fall was coming to a close, and they were nowhere close to finding Peter Parker.

Terri would have to question the residents of Forest Hills again. Sweeping through the house will take some time, and Terri would have to follow up for Peter's case anyway. She had a sinking feeling about it, but that didn’t mean Terri was giving up if no one in the neighborhood could give her anything to work with.

The people living in Anna Watson's home were already escorted back to the station for questioning. Terri already began making a mental list of  necessities to buy for three women, a teenager, and a five-year old. They wouldn't be going home until forensics was done with the place. Or once both boys were found. At this rate, there was no guarantee on when  _ either  _ would happen.

* * *

 

Asking around the neighborhood was a bust. Even if Terri's instincts just kept on screaming that there was something more to this than a case of serial disappearances. She just couldn't quite put her finger on what it is.

At first glance, the disappearances seemed random—there was no rhyme or reason behind them, and none of the victims were connected in any way.

Janet Reyes—single mother, widow. Henry Travis, only surviving child out of three. Tara Pezzani, miscarried at sixteen. Alex Kyoko, boyfriend died in a car accident weeks before disappearing. Marie Holstein, bounced from one foster home to another after losing her parents in a gang-related shootout. They all disappeared within a span of thirty days.

Then, there was Peter Parker.

Lost both parents at six. Lost his uncle at fifteen. Disappeared two weeks after the last person on the string.

Out of all the disappearances, only Flash Thompson was the outlier. 

Harrison Thompson was still alive. 

Rosie Thompson and Jessica Thompson were both safe and sound. So, what made Flash different?

The only thing Terri had to work with was his connection to Peter Parker. Other than that, there was nothing else.

Could it be a copycat? Someone who wanted to imitate the possible kidnappings, but did not understand the possible reason behind them?

There was no telling what will happen next and Terri didn’t want to wait to find out. Making assumptions was a mistake and it could be Peter’s or Flash’s lives paying for it.

Too bad things were just going to get worse from there.

* * *

 

_ Day 15: _

"Heads up!" Terri blinked at the manila folder Vargas threw at her, palms sweaty as she nearly dropped it. "It's from that dick journalist. Already gave the captain a copy and currently getting a warranty to confiscate Jameson's phone. I'm gonna have the IT guys take a crack at it. See if they could trace it.”

Terri raised an unimpressed brow before looking  opening the folder.

Cold dread drenched Terri's chest in ice. Front and center was Flash Thompson--bound and gagged with nearly every inch of exposed skin black and blue with bruises. 

Worst were his feet.

Terri had seen a lot of things in her career, but no matter how brutal or how nauseating a great deal of her cases had been, she wasn’t prepared at the image before her. Broken glass littered the floor. Plenty pierced through Flash's toes. He was missing three of them.

"Oh god." Terri handed the phone back. Faintly, she heard herself speak. "Get a gag order on Jameson. No one sees it except us, understand?"

Terri did not like the resigned expression on Vargas' face.

"Jameson got the second part." Terri buried her face in her hands. Guilt and the need to punch something until it broke warred inside her head. "First part was uploaded in Flash Thompson's social media account around the same time. It's...not pretty either, but it was before... well... that. We already got it shut down before it started generating views past the hundreds. No reposters, so far."

Terri  flipped the file, Flash Thompson stared back—eyes clouded and the white of his eyes tinged red.  He wasn’t aware of the bruises littering his face or the gash running from his forehead to the bridge of his nose. He looked drugged.

“As long as nobody sees...  _ this _ , then we’re good.”

* * *

 

Jameson was surprisingly cooperative.

"Get it out of my face," he gritted out, Cuban cigar between his teeth. He had a flip phone, of all things. "Already got my carrier trying to find where it came from. I'm just publishing papers, you just do your jobs."

Terri nodded solemnly as she bagged the phone and labelled it. She handed it to Vargas, who had a sealed box ready. There was no fanfare and Jameson complied the moment Terri asked for the phone.

Jameson didn't show it to anyone either and he contacted the station the moment he saw the picture.

"Thank you," Terri began. "Please, if you get anything else like--"

"Yeah, I'll let you know."

* * *

 

_ Day 25: _

The message came from Flash Thompson's phone. It was found in a landfill in Queens. Worst, another case came up when forensics found a body that no one could identify.

The good news was Terri wasn’t taken off the missing person’s case and the body was too small and was decidedly not male to be Flash Thompson. The bad news was nobody knew if it was connected to the other disappearances at all. Based on the body’s condition, it was around the two-week mark in decay, but it was too mutilated to provide an accurate estimate and Terri would have to wait for  _ four weeks _ for just the autopsy report. Then another  _ four to six _ weeks for toxicology. Granted, murder investigations often took months, if not,  _ years _ before they’re closed.

Fortunately, Terri had a colleague working with her (unfortunately, Pearson was a major dickhead) and they just had IT to sort through 72 hours of security footage. Trucks dumped their payload every other day. New York overflowed people, and that meant nearly tons of garbage every single day. 

The only lead Terri had then was a security footage of a sedan with California plates driving towards the landfill’s entrance before parking right in front of it. The footage was too low quality and the single bulb illuminating the entrance casted the suspect’s face in shadow. Frustratingly, the camera moved in a pattern in specific intervals and the suspect was out of sight with his car’s trunk open and empty. Running the plates got Terri a stolen plate report in Minnesota and descriptions of the car got at least fifty hits with more than half outside New York.

That didn’t mean Terri was giving up and call it a bust. Even if Pearson was patronizingly bullheaded about it and kept giving her barely concealed jabs for following her instincts and acting like she had everything wrong from the start.

Making assumptions was the first mistake, and just giving up on Terri’s only lead just because there were too many hits for a white sedan that had too many missing siblings was unacceptable. If Terri had to work overtime in the bullpen, then so be it.

Terri wouldn’t give up, she will see to it  _ personally _ that both boys get to go home. Even if it would take her years to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then things go from worse to _worse_ to _really worse._
> 
> Good thing it's not the _worst,_ just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to talk to me in DMs? Come join this lil server I made for SpiderVenom fans!
> 
> https://discord.gg/z4X5vk8


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